Tom Riddle's Diary
by WolfKnight947
Summary: A short story to cool down from my other works and to slowly get back into writing shape after my long hiatus. It is just a retelling of how I think ol' Voldie wrote in his famous diary. Enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

Tom Riddle's Diary

Dear Diary,

This is the very first time that I am writing in this journal. I bought it from that little book store near the Orphanage with some money that I stole from the headmistress.

Her purse was a glittery pink color and her wallet had just enough pounds to buy it. The journal is maroon red and has a blank name tag on the back.

Today whilst I was showering, a young boy scrambled into the private bathroom that each room has and saw me. I was enraged. So enraged that I just lost control. I started screaming at him in a random, whispering language that I had no idea I could speak. I had just thought that I was discovering areas of my brain and that it was just a slip up.

He started to cry and sob, weeping for mercy. He said that he was scared.

But I had no mercy. I felt as though I had no privacy in this wretched orphanage, so I wanted the boy to pay. I raised my hand up, and spoke what seemed like an incantation in the same whispering, wheezing voice. The boy started levitating up and up and up, hitting his head on the short ceiling.

I squeezed my hand tighter and he grabbed his own neck, writhing in pain, screaming, "Mercy! Mercy!"

He went limp and fell to the ground.

I ran out of the bathroom and dried off in my room. The authorities came by late this afternoon to take away the declared dead body.

What is happening to me? It seems as though you are my only friend, diary, and I had just bought you today.

Tom Marvolo Riddle, 12 August, 1936


	2. Chapter 2

Dear Diary,

Today was better than yesterday. I didn't accidently kill anybody, but something even more bizarre than yesterday happened.

Today is Saturday, so the Head Mistress took us out to spend our allowance and chore money on some things at the strip mall. I didn't have any money, because I spent it on this diary yesterday, so I just sat on a bench, waiting for our hour to be up.

I decided to start drawing in the diary, just random doodles, when I saw a slithering shadow approaching.

The shadow kept coming near me and swirled up the park bench. It sat beside me and raised its head out of the shadows and into the hazy sunlight.

It was a long, great emerald snake with piercing, angular yellow eyes. It looked up at me. When normal children should have been scared, I felt as though I was strangely comfortable.

It wrapped its great length around my torso and gently tightened, releasing my arms so that I could pet it. It looked into my eyes, and said in a hushed whisper, "Alone in this world?"

I looked surprised, and then I quickly hissed back, "Yes, I am."

The snake replied again. "So am I, young master. What is your name?"

"My name is Thomas Marvolo Riddle, but I go by Thoms or Tom." It was another hissed whisper that started to not sound like English and more like a real language.

The great serpent spoke again. "What is my name? I seem to have forgotten."

"Well, are you a boy, or a girl?"

"In my civilization, my race calls me an 'Ume-Noc,' or, a girl."

"Should I name you?"

"Yes, yes I would love that…" The proud serpent hissed.

"Then I shall name you 'Nagini,' the name of my grandmother."

"I love that name, Thoms… I shall use it from this day forth…"

Before I knew it, the hour was up and people were walking towards me on this deserted street. Nagini sadly had to leave, and I'm sure that I would never see my first living friend ever again.

Tom Riddle, 13 August 1936


	3. Chapter 3

Dear Diary,

Last night, to my surprise, my snake friend Nagini came to my window! We talked for what seemed like maybe only ten minutes, but to my surprise we spoke for three hours! I just feel so comfortable around snakes. We talked about our day, she told me about her being bred in a zoo and how she was of Brazilian origin, and that she traveled far and wide from a zoo in a dreadful place called Little Whinging, all the way here. She said that animal control was looking for her all over and that she had little time left before she was tracked down.

In return, I sought help from her in discovering who I am and why I could talk to snakes. She told me that I was a Parselmouth, and that whenever I speak this language, only snakes can understand me, as I am speaking a completely new language. She told me that I can communicate in secret with other Parselmouths like this, talk to snakes, of course, and open special doors with this that are marked with serpent decorations.

I told her about my sudden, strange outbursts, but she disappeared in a cloud of black smoke before I could get an answer. I was upset.

Later that evening I saw a large puddle of water leaking under my door. I walked outside to see that the fosset in my bathroom had mysteriously blown up and was leaking. I wondered if me being upset had anything to do with this.

Tom Marvolo Riddle, 15 August, 1936


	4. Chapter 4

Dear Diary,

It seems as though I haven't written in this for months. I have been preoccupied with some things going on in my life.

After a month of break, my strange outbursts of energy have started up again, growing progressively more powerful and frequent. One time I set a cupboard on fire. Another time I destroyed the Headmistress's taupe. Once I even killed a boy! I'm afraid that people are going to figure out that it's me and jail me! Or worse… Kill me. There is nothing worse than death. I'm scared. I don't know what to do. It seems that it gets worse the closer it gets to my eleventh birthday.

My snake friend Nagini visits me every night, but as soon as I ask about my outbursts she disappears. One night somebody spotted her and telegraphed the police. I hid her under my bed until the threat passed.

It's good to have a place that I can really pour my soul into and tell all of my secrets.

The blank name tag on the back started to get warmer and warmer, until it glowed red. I touched it and the heat went away, but the center of it sunk down. Out of curiosity, I said the words, "Tom Marvolo Riddle." A line of pure white and yellow heat traced the words onto the name tag. It was beautiful, but it left some ash stains and burn marks around the name tag and on the spine, also in all four corners. The more outbursts of magic that I had, the closer I come to you, diary, and the darker of maroon you get. Sometimes I wonder if I'm demonic, if I'm evil. I'm scared, and I need help desperately…

Tom Marvolo Riddle, 18 December, 1936


	5. Chapter 5

Dear Diary,

Tomorrow is my eleventh birthday. Conveniently, it is also New Year's Eve, which means everybody will be too preoccupied with the festivities to give me any much needed attention.

Even if it wasn't New Year's Eve, I wouldn't get any presents. My father doesn't know me, my grandparents, the source of my presents any other year, died when I was nine, and I had no friends at the orphanage. Even the headmistress was too scared of me to get me anything, for fear of me being disappointed and murdering her. Everything is just so hard.

To my surprise, the headmistress gave me a letter from a man named Albus Dumbledore. She said that he was going to come and talk to me. I burnt the letter by accident. It was probably a doctor to come take me away.

Tom Riddle, 30 December, 1936


End file.
